The Assassin and the Supersoldier
by Darth Tromeros
Summary: She had never known what it's like to have a friend. He's just a man out of time. They never really talked, never really knew each other. But with the Avengers not saving the world, they can get to know each other. And they might just find they can be more than just friends. Rated K for right now, might change in the future.
1. Chapter 1

Grunts and kicks came from the gym. Her leg flew out and landed against the practice dummy's middle, knocking it over. She stopped for a moment just to pick it back up again before punching at the head and side, spinning around to kick it again. It landed on the floor again, the mats muffling the impact. Pushing her damp red hair out of her face, she left the mats to go to her water bottle. Taking a swig of it, she stretched her hands out and sat down. She put her leg out, bending over and grabbing her toes to stretch it before doing the other leg as well. As she bent one leg over the other and pushed on her knee, a newcomer came into the gym.

"Finishing your workout?" he asked, putting his bag and water bottle on the other side of the mat.

Natasha pulled her hair behind her ear and studied the newcomer's face. "I'm never finished with a workout," she told him, standing up.

Steve gave a small smile. "I'm getting ready too. You want to work out together?"

Natasha thought over it. After saving New York, he should know already how skilled she really was. He wouldn't be asking her to join if he didn't, would he? Shrugging it off, she thought of it as a way to get to know him.

"Sure," she answered, heading back onto the matt. "I'll be taking it easy, though."

"Good enough for me."

Taking her usual fighting stance, they stared at each other in the eyes before she threw her leg out. He jumped over it, punching at her when she grabbed his fist with one hand and pushing her other arm into his side. Spinning away, he jumped up and threw a kick around, causing her to duck.

"This is fun," she remarked between punches.

He gave a tired grin. "Yeah, it is."

They continued punching and dodging, one of them occasionally hitting the either, little painful gasps escaping their lips but not interrupting their fighting.

"How long has it been since the alien attack?" Steve asked, panting.

As her punch was blocking, she answered, "A week and a half."

"My sense of time has been really messed up, you know?" He kicked.

"I would guess," she said, jumping up just a fraction of a second too late. She lost her breath as her side hit the ground.

He held a hand out to her. "Break time?"

Breathing heavily, she nodded. He helped her to her feet. "How long have you been here?" he asked.

"What time is it?" Natasha asked, pulling her hair away from her face again.

"About three thirty."

"Five and a half hours, then." She sat down on a bench, picking her water bottle up.

"You're intense about training, aren't you?"

"I have to stay in shape in my job," she told him after taking a drink. Wiping excess water off her lip, she continued with, "It also helps me clear my head and think things through."

"Anything you were thinking about today?" He glanced over at her.

She shrugged. "Not really." She took another sip from her water bottle.

He stood up. "I'm going to get my water bottle," he told her.

She watched him head over to his water bottle, observing how muscular his back was. Her eyes shifted to his arms, which were currently pumped, his muscles rippling. As he turned back, she quickly stared elsewhere.

"You know," he started as he sat back down, "its funny how we've known each other for almost two weeks and yet we've barely talked to each other."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"We should change that." He smiled. "I need someone to talk too."

She looked down at her lap. "How hard was it?"

His smile faded. "What?"

"Adjusting." She glanced back up at him.

His gaze switched from her to the opposite wall. "It's tough," he sighed, sitting up straight instead of resting his arms on his knees. "Society's different. Everything seems more… equal." He looked back at her. "More liberal, even. The thing some people wear would get a girl arrested back in the forties."

A small grin spread on Natasha's lips in agreement. Her eyes met his.

"And all my friends… you know." He looked away, wiping his eye. Natasha didn't know whether it was tear or just an itch.

They fell into a silence, their breathing steadying as they drank their water. After a few minutes Steve inhaled loudly. "Well, I'm going to go take a shower and then get something to eat." As he stood up, he glanced down at Natasha. "Want to meet me for dinner in the cafeteria?"

Natasha's stomach rumbled lightly, as if to agree. "Sounds like a plan to me," she said.

"Great. See you then." He gave her one last smile before turning to leave.

She remained on the bench, her body still. Her mind was calm, the only thing she was thinking about being taking a shower and meeting with Steve.

Maybe it'd be nice to meet up with Steve, she thought to herself. She had never really had friends before; she never really found them a necessity with her occupation. It's dangerous enough to make relationships, anyway.

Smiling to herself, she told herself one conversation wouldn't be that bad. She even had to admit she was even looking forward to it.

Standing up, she took one last swig of her water bottle before leaving the gym.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha stepped into the cafeteria, brushing her hair out of her face. She scanned the area and spotted Steve, who was waving a hand at her and smiling. She returned the smile, heading through the food line and sitting across from him at the table. "Sorry I didn't wait for you," Steve told her.

"No problem. I took a little longer than usual." She picked up her fork. "Sorry for making you wait."

"No problem as well." He smirked, his eyes glittering. Her heart seemed to flutter for a moment. It almost made her panic that she felt that, but decided to push it away.

"I'm no good at starting conversations," Steve admitted after a few seconds.

"I'm no good at them either if I'm not on a mission," Natasha said, a smile tugging at her lips.

Steve nodded, the same smirk on his lips. "So… um… what's your favorite color?"

Natasha suppressed a laugh at his lame attempt. "Yellow," she answered.

Surprise spread on his face. "I thought it'd be red or black."

"Yeah, most people would think that, I would assume." She glanced down at her tray. "Believe it or not, I've never really liked black. It's just been a common color for me. And red… it used to be my favorite color."

"Used to be?"

She sighed. "Yeah. I loved the harshness and vibrancy of it, but now it's just turned into sort of a bad reminder of who I used to be."

Steve wanted to pry more and find out what happened, but he held his tongue back. "Yellow, though. Really?"

She gave a small laugh. "Yeah. I can't really pull off that color, though. And it's not a color people would pair me with anyway."

"No-sir-ee."

She twirled her fork in her spaghetti. "How about you?"

"Blue." He smiled. "Predictable, huh?"

"I have to admit." She took a bite, giving him a thin lipped grin.

Silence overtook them. "Okay, I don't know what else to say now," Steve said lightly.

Natasha chuckled. "How about your favorite animal?"

"Either a dog or an eagle."

"An eagle?" Humor danced in Natasha's eyes.

"Hey, hey, I'll like what I'll like."

"You really are the poster boy of America."

Steve didn't say anything; he just grinned. "Okay, you?"

Natasha's face seemed to tinge pink. "You're going to laugh."

"No I won't."

"Yes you will."

"I promise I won't."

She looked down at her food again. "It's… um… cats."

Steve bit his lip. "Really?"

"You promised you wouldn't laugh! I just find them so adorable and lovable—"

"Lovable?" Steve looked away.

Natasha groaned but remained smiling. "Stop making fun of me!"

"Okay, okay," Steve said, leaning back in his chair.

Natasha glanced up at him, their eyes locking at one another. They sat in silence again, but this time they stared at each other. Natasha observed how soft and light his ashen eyes appeared, never noticing their color before. She found herself liking them; how relaxed yet strong they were, how the light reflected off of them.

"I never really noticed your eyes before."

Natasha jumped at his voice. He had a bashful expression on his face. He picked at his food as he continued. "They're… they're pretty."

The comment made her smile once more. "I like yours too," she said.

Steve glanced back at her quickly before looking back at his plate.

They both ate, avoiding each others glances. Steve sighed after a while. "So, um, what's your favorite hobby?"

"Exercising," Natasha responded. "I told you why earlier."

"Ah, I should've known."

"How about you?"

He laid his fork down. "Drawing," he said after a few seconds. "I have a sketchbook hidden in my room. I'm always afraid Tony will find it."

"That could go a lot of ways," Natasha commented.

"Exactly." He looked over at her plate. "I guess we're about done."

"I suppose so." She stood up. "Well, we made progress. We now know each others' favorite colors, animals, and hobbies."

"And we both agree we have pretty eyes."

Natasha laughed. "Yeah, we have killer eyes."

Steve grinned widely. "Meet up for lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Natasha told him, heading to the area where they put their trays.

They put their trays down, their hands brushing each others as they pulled up. "Whoops, sorry," Steve told her as he pulled his hand off of hers.

Natasha's heart fluttered once more as goosebumps formed on her arms. Scolding herself for feeling like that, she said, "Nah, its fine."

As they left the cafeteria, Steve told her, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. I have to go do some stuff."

"Alright." She waved as she headed the other direction.

Her shoes clicked as she headed down the hallway. She smiled, looking forward to their lunch tomorrow. They seemed to have some obvious chemistry; maybe she would have a friend after all.

Her mind drifted over to where her heart seemed to skip a beat. She suddenly felt worried. The last time she felt that… she didn't even want to think of it. "Love is for children," she had said. But the last time she was in love….

She shook the thought out of her mind. Just focus on making friends, she told herself.

But the previous thought wouldn't leave her mind.


End file.
